On Fire's Wings - Christie Golden [48]
Gently, he placed her on the offering stone. She roused at the movement, and somehow summoned the strength to cry. He turned, willing himself not to hear the heart-breaking noise, although it seemed to echo in his head long after his mount had placed many miles of desert sand between them.
Chapter Ten
Kevla thought it would have been better if the household had been permitted to show its grief. Had the child been born clean, not so clearly marked by the Great Dragon’s disfavor, and died during birth, it would have been deeply mourned. As it was, no one spoke of it. Things moved on as if all was normal, but there was a sickly, frightened, sorrowful pall that hung over the House as if storm clouds sat atop it.
Yeshi locked herself in her room and would see no one. Several times a day, Tahmu knocked on her door and asked permission to enter. All he received was silence. On the third day, he muttered something under his breath and burst open the door with his shoulder.
Kevla did not know in what condition he found Yeshi, but an hour later she, Tiah and Ranna were summoned to the room. Yeshi lay on the bed, still in the filthy, blood- and afterbirth-stained clothing she had worn on the day she had borne her ill-fated child. She stared, unseeing, at the ceiling, but as the day wore on the three women managed to coax her into eating a few bites of food, shedding her soiled clothing, and permitting herself to be bathed from a basin.
While Yeshi slowly and unwillingly returned to her women, the rest of the House was kept busy with the flood of new five-scores. Kevla did not interact with them, but she passed them in the kitchens now and then and pitied them. Most were not much older than she, and female. They seemed terrified and spoke with a thick accent. Some of them bore old scars. She wanted to let them know that it was all right, that Tahmu was a good master, but when she did try to speak to them, they shrank from her like frightened liahs. Kevla hoped that Sahlik’s mixture of practicality and kindness would reach them.
She saw little of Jashemi, and there was no talk from Maluuk about resuming their lessons. She feared that going to war had changed the young lord. Was that strange connection she had felt real? Or was she fooling herself into thinking she meant anything to him other than as a servant? He passed her in the halls with no acknowledgment, and at such times she was buffeted with both relief and regret. She told herself it was for the best; any closeness between a Bai-sha and a khashimu, even a friendship, courted trouble.
But she did not believe it.
Several days after Tahmu had given the child to the Great Dragon, Kevla was filling up Yeshi’s tray with tidbits to tempt her to eat when Sahlik came up behind her.
“No, no!” she scolded, pointing to a small cup of boiled balan. “Yeshi hates this cooked. Give her the fresh root, child. Like this.”
She plopped a long yellow tuber onto the tray. Kevla was startled at the rebuke, and then she noticed a small corner of parchment peeking out from underneath the root. She sucked in her breath. Sahlik turned away.
“You! Come here, child. You seem to like cooking. Do you know how to make bread?”
Kevla’s heart pounded so hard she thought it would burst through her chest. There was only one person who would send her a written message.
She shook so badly that she feared she would drop the tray, but managed to make it into a small room off the great hall which saw little activity. She unfolded the letter and read:
Sahlik has arranged for me to have time alone in the cavern. Go to the kitchen first, then come find me there when it is time for someone’s afternoon nap.
Kevla felt weak as joy and apprehension flooded her. Was this not what she had hoped for? To see him again, alone? She wished he had said more, but the letter could be dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands.